


Feel the Snake Bite Enter My Veins

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Public Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-12 10:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10488234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Jason heard Slade chuckle, a rumble from his chest, and then he was reaching up from Jason’s arm to his neck, his hand curling around it, squeezing. “You little birds are all the same,” he said, squeezing. Jason felt the pressure of his fingertips, felt the blood flow cutting off. He was dizzy with it almost instantly. “Are you desperate for something, boy?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadkitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/gifts).



> This was a commission for Cad, and an utter delight to lose myself in.

“That was my mark.”

 

Jason lifted his head, glancing through his helmet at the man standing far too easily on the very ledge of the building. The large rifle Slade had hoisted over one shoulder cut his profile. “Yeah?” he asked, voice mechanical sounding through the helmet. “Guess you’re too slow old man.”

 

He cocked a smile behind his mask, got to hold it a single second before Slade was jumping off the ledge. The gun over his shoulder slid into his grasp, and the butt of it jabbed into Jason’s shoulder. Jason jerked back, and a swift kick to his gut had him sprawling back, on the roof. Slade stepped over him, settled a boot on his chest and pushed down, forced Jason flat on his back.

 

“What was that?” he asked, and Jason simply stared up, before he burst out laughing. The boot on his chest pressed harder, and he couldn’t deny to himself it was _arousing_ , being pushed around so damn easily.

 

“Relax,” Jason said, lifting his head. He moved his arms, aware that Slade was watching with his good eye, behind his mask. He grasped his helmet, pulled it free and felt the cool air hitting his forehead, the hair sticking to him with sweat. “You can take all the damn credit. I just needed the fucker dead.”

 

The boot slid up his chest, pressed to his throat, and Jason tipped his head back. His air was restricted but not cut off, and he groaned, couldn’t stop the way his hips bucked.

 

“Careful,” he managed, “a guy might be into that.”

 

There was a moment of hesitation, before the boot edged off his neck. Slade pivoted the muzzle of his rifle into the roof, fully removed his weight from Jason, and actually bent over, offering his hand. Jason reached up, grasped his forearm, allowed the man to hoist him up. Despite Jason’s bulk, Slade didn’t seem to have a problem with it, and that made Jason’s heart skip a beat.

 

“Don’t let it happen again,” Slade warned, keeping his hold firm on Jason’s arm. “I complete contracts. There’s a reputation to uphold.”

 

“Like I said, you can have all the damn credit.” Jason flashed a smile, felt Slade’s fingers digging in through his jacket. Slade gave a little growl, before he was walking Jason back a step, two, slamming him into the protrusion that covered the stairs to the roof. Jason’s back hit the old concrete, his head snapped back, and Slade loomed close.

 

“That’s not the _point_ ,” He inclined his head, and Jason felt his damn thighs quivering. A testament to how long it had been since he’d gotten _laid_ \- he couldn’t even take fucking _Deathstroke_ seriously. Slade pushed right up against him, and Jason couldn’t stop the way his hips bucked, tried to grind into Slade. He heard Slade chuckle, a rumble from his chest, and then he was reaching up from Jason’s arm to his neck, his hand curling around it, squeezing. “You little birds are all the same,” he said, squeezing. Jason felt the pressure of his fingertips, felt the blood flow cutting off. He was dizzy with it almost instantly. “Are you desperate for something, boy?”

 

Jason bucked again, exhaled through his nose before his mouth curved into a smirk. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but what makes you think you can give it, _old man_?”

 

The hand on his neck tightened, pressing to his throat now. Jason felt his air cut off slightly, and Slade’s other hand was between them, working his belt open easily.

 

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, and Jason’s head was swimming. No way this was _happening_. No way it was a good idea, either- but when had that stopped him?

 

“Yeah,” Jason breathed, as his belt hung open. Slade popped the button on his pants, tugged the zipper down- and Jason’s cock was tenting his boxer briefs. He hadn’t worn a cup, hadn’t planned to be up close and personal with much of anyone tonight. Surveillance at the end of a rifle was how he planned to spend the hours.

 

Slade’s gloved hand cupped his cock and balls, squeezed. Jason groaned, the grip on his neck loosening but still present. Slade fondled him, rubbed his thumb along the shape of his shaft, and Jason whined without meaning to.

 

He wondered if Slade was smirking, behind that mask. He slid his hand lower, cupped Jason’s balls and rolled them, and Jason bit his lip, exhaling hard through his nose. Then Slade squeezed, tightly, and Jason let out a broken little cry.

 

Slade hummed. “Better,” he breathed, before his hand moved to the waistband. He tugged the elastic down, and Jason’s cock bobbed free. He grasped it, gave him a tight, quick jerk, and Jason’s mouth fell open. The feeling of his glove wasn’t unpleasant, but Jason would have much preferred skin on skin. “Now, tell me _Red Hood_ ,” he said, leaning in so close that if it wasn’t for the damned mask, Jason might have kissed him- “Do you scream when you come?”

 

His hand moved quickly, fist bumping Jason’s glans with each deep stroke. Jason shuddered, squirmed, reaching up to grasp at Slade’s forearm. He squeezed, bared his teeth, and hissed out, “ _tighter_.”

 

Slade squeezed his throat, and Jason’s temples throbbed. He sucked in a desperate breath, felt dizzy as his cock dripped down onto the roof between them. His other hand fisted, slammed back into the concrete, as his hips chased Slade’s hand. He was panting, his belly feeling tight already, and Jason might have been embarrassed that he was so close already-

 

Except this was every damn fantasy he had thrown together. Feeling so damn _powerless_ beneath a man too old for him. Feeling small and like Slade might snap his neck.

 

Slade growled, and Jason gave a sharp cry. Not a scream, but still loud enough to echo up around them, as his hips jerked forward and he came. He splattered onto the roof, between Slade’s boots, some of it dribbling along his glove. Jason sagged back, and the hand on his throat loosened. It slid up, and Slade gripped Jason’s chin, forced his head up, studying the cut of his jaw. He gave a small _hmm_ , before he pulled back completely, taking a step back.

 

Jason sucked in a deep breath, watched as Slade flicked his wrist, a few pearly droplets falling from his glove to the ground. Jason shuddered, wished Slade could come back, shove those gloved fingers into his mouth. He’d be more than happy to choke on the flavor of his own cum.

 

Instead he reached down, quickly tucked his cock away as Slade bent over, picked up his rifle. He slung it over his shoulder as Jason zipped his pants back up, looked about ready to leave without another word.

 

Jason licked his lips- and call him _crazy_ , but he couldn’t just let this opportunity walk away. “Hey,” he called, and Slade paused, one foot up on the lip of the roof. “There’s a shitty motel down on Freeman street,” he said, “room 17.”

 

He didn’t need to extend any sort of implicit invitation. He knew Slade got the idea. The man didn’t even look back at him, simply stayed paused, before he was suddenly jumping off the roof, disappearing down below. Jason didn’t bother chasing after him, didn’t run to look over the edge. He’d be done, Jason knew.

 

Jason just hoped it wasn’t his last sighting of the night.

 

*

 

Jason rubbed the small towel over his hair, stepping out of the too small bathroom of his room. The carpet wasn’t exactly soft under his bare feet, but it was just _one night_. One night away from home and then he’d be back in his own apartment.

 

He sighed, glancing over at the door. He’d put the chain up, but he’d been half tempted to leave the damn door wide open with a _sign_ welcoming Slade in, if he chose to show. _If_.

 

Another heavy sigh, and Jason sat down on the edge of the bed, still drying his hair. It had been a feat to not jerk off in the shower, thinking about that hand around his throat. And as hot as it was to be at _Deathstroke’s_ mercy, Jason had seen Slade. He’d go bare fisted against Superman to get at him.

 

He licked his lips, inwardly cursed himself. Shouldn’t go so long without getting laid, it left him with tunnel vision. Left him thinking with his dick and not his damn head.

 

He rubbed the towel at his bare neck, before he tossed it back into the bathroom. It landed on the floor and Jason flopped back, staring up at the discolored ceiling. Thing was, he didn’t have _time_ to go out and get laid with how busy he was being kept. Bruce letting him in just a little bit, along with his own connections- he didn’t have time to doll himself up and go down to the bar, to find a guy to his _liking_.

 

He had a type. And Slade, he hit every requirement and then some.

 

Jason settled his hands on his bare belly, rubbed at the trail of hair just below his navel. His cock twitched in his sweatpants. He wanted to get off again, and while he figured Slade wouldn’t actually show, he was clinging to some sort of hope that he would. He turned his head, glanced at the old digital clock on the bedside table. It was almost two AM. He’d give him twenty more minutes, before he jerked off and called it a night.

 

Jason closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He didn’t sleep, but he faded in and out, until there was a succession of three sharp knocks at his door. His eyes jerked open, and a glance at the clock red _two thirty_. He pushed himself up off the bed, walking over and working the chain open, flipping the lock without even checking the peephole.

 

Jason tugged the door open, found in the harsh yellow light of the open air hallway Slade. Sans suit, in jeans and a jacket, looking no less terrifying. Jason swallowed thickly, and Slade leaned forward, rested his forearm on the door, was studying him with his single eye.

 

“I showed,” he said, his voice not muffled now, making Jason’s cock throb. “What’s your next move, little red?”

 

Jason lifted his head, told himself to appear cocky, not to show that he was shaking, down to his toes. That he wanted to get down on his knees and simply beg Slade to wrap his hand around his throat again, to throw him down on the bed and fuck him until he sobbed.

 

He stepped aside, and Slade walked in, hands in his pockets. Jason pulled the door sut, flipped the lock but didn’t latch the chain. He stepped back, watched Slade glancing around the room. “The streets are nicer than this place,” he said, and Jason shrugged a shoulder.

 

“No point in something five star when I’m here for a night, and most of it is spent on a rooftop.” He took two steps in, watched as Slade shed his jacket, tossed it onto the floor, on top of Jason’s suitcase. His simple tshirt was snug, and Jason looked at the curves of his biceps, wanted to dig his nails into them. He swallowed again, and Slade settled down on the edge of the bed. His hands settled on his thighs, and Jason understood the silent invitation.

 

He walked over, slipped between his thighs, and Slade glanced up at him, his bangs skimming past his eye, along his patch. “This goes one of two ways,” Slade said, “you dance around the subject and I leave. Or,” he reached out, got one hand on the back of Jason’s thigh, rubbed the muscle through his sweatpants. “You tell me what you’re thinking, and we both get something we want.”

 

Jason felt his legs giving out. His cock was so hard in his sweats, was tenting the material now. Slade’s hand pulled back and Jason let himself fall heavily to his knees. The worn carpet wasn’t much cushion, but he didn’t care.

 

“I’m thinkin’ I wanna suck you off,” Jason said, and Slade leaned forward, cupped his chin in one hand.

 

“Good answer.”

 

He gave Jason’s chin and cheeks a squeeze, before letting go. He leaned back on the bed, and Jason reached up, popped open the button to his jeans, dragged the zipper down. His knuckles brushed Slade’s crotch, felt the heat radiating through the thin cotton, and Jason bit his tongue. He spread his hand, rubbed his fingers up, felt the twitch of flesh beneath, and then Slade’s gruff voice.

 

“C’mon boy.” Jason shivered over that, always got a tight knot in his gut when his lovers were impatient, demanding. He curled his fingers in the waistband of Slade’s boxer briefs, pulling them down. Slade lifted his hips, his jeans catching with Jason’s pull, until they were low enough that his cock and balls were free. He wasn’t hard yet, was only half mast, but Jason always enjoyed the thrill of working his lovers up.

 

Jason leaned in, lapped at his cockhead. His mouth trailed along his shaft, to the base, as his hand reached up, cupped Slade’s balls and rolled them slowly over his palm. Slade gave a grunt, and Jason bent his head further down, opened his mouth and sucked one in. He rolled his tongue over it, the grunt turning to a groan. He heard Slade shifting, like he was moving to get a better view, and Jason’s hips tried to cant forward, over that.

 

He switched to the other, felt Slade’s cock brushing his cheek. It throbbed, swelling, and Jason felt precum smear along his cheek. He shuddered, breath rushing out through his nostrils, before he pulled off. He wrapped a hand around Slade’s erection, gave him a firm stroke, watched as more precum beaded up on the head.

 

Jason opened his mouth, lapped his tongue around the head, reveled in the salty flavor. He sucked the head into his mouth, continued to swirl his tongue around the head, his hand stroking slowly. All he heard was Slade’s breathing, still somewhat calm, until there was a hand in his hair, tugging.

 

“How far down can you go?” Slade’s fingers pressed to his scalp, giving a push, and Jason opened his mouth wider, let himself be guided down. The first half of Slade’s cock was easy, and even beyond that Jason knew he could take. He had enough practice. He slid until his lips were buried in the white curls at Slade’s groin, and the man was cursing. “Fuck,” he mumbled, easing up the pressure on the back of Jason’s head. Jason eased back, before sliding forward again, taking him all the way in.

 

Another grunted curse, and Jason felt Slade’s hips lifting up, fucking over his tongue. He reached up, grasped his thighs, dug his nails into Slade’s jeans as he let the man fuck his mouth. His jaw burned, and he was having trouble breathing, the corners of his eyes growing wet- but god, his cock was so damn hard, precum staining the front of his sweatpants.

 

He groaned, squeezed his eyes shut, and Slade’s hand on the back of his head shoved him down, forced him to take his entire cock as he thrust up. Jason choked, felt saliva sliding from the corner of his mouth. His hips bucked, the material rubbing against his cockhead not enough friction to get him what he wanted.

 

Jason whined as Slade set to fucking his mouth again, his hand guiding his movements. He was being utterly _used_ and it was everything he wanted, everything he loved. He clutched at his thighs until Slade hissed over the pressure but then grunted, bending over Jason and giving a growl as he held his head down, came with his cock twitching against Jason’s throat. Jason swallowed around his cock, the bitter flavor leeching onto his tongue, making him dizzy. When Slade finally straightened up, leaning back and lifted his hand, Jason pulled off, sank away and bowed his head, coughing as he tried to catch his breath.

 

Jason leaned back, onto his ankles, tried to blink back the tears. He dared to glance up, caught Slade looking at him, this little smirk on his lips.

 

“I may have underestimated you.” He reached out a hand, ghosted his calloused fingers along Jason’s jaw. “Come up here.”

 

Jason nearly jumped. He crawled onto the bed, was up on his knees, and Slade reached out, grasped his cock through his sweatpants, had Jason whining.

 

“Do you always get so excited when someone fucks that pretty mouth?” Jason bit his lip, nodded, felt incapable of words in that moment. He was so _close_ , bucked his hips as Slade squeezed his fist around his cockhead. His thumb rubbed at the nerves just beneath it, and Jason couldn’t stop himself. He gave a pathetic cry, hips jerking, felt the cum spreading along his sweats, smearing all over his cockhead, down his shaft. The wet spot from his precum grew, and he heard Slade click his tongue. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?”

 

Jason shook his head, sucked in deep breaths. His chest ached with them. “Sorry,” he mumbled, falling into himself, falling into that part of him that actually apologized and was _meek_.

 

Slade hummed. “Make it up to me.” Jason lifted his eyes. “Fuck yourself in front of me.”

 

Jason stared at Slade, his jaw slightly agape. When Slade didn’t say another word, Jason stood up, walking around the bed. He bent over his duffle bag, rummaged around and came back with his bottle of lube. He walked back around the bed, set it down next to Slade, before he hooked his fingers in his sweats, let them fall off his hips, down his legs. Jason swallowed thickly, as Slade took his damn time, looking him over.

 

Then he was rubbing one hand along the bed, beckoning him back. Jason crawled onto the bed, and Slade placed a large hand on his chest, pushed him back. Jason reclined into the pillows, let his legs fall open, and Slade pushed the lube towards him.

 

“Don’t take all night,” he warned, and Jason was scrambling for it, pouring too much on his fingers. Wet and nearly dripping, he reached between his thighs, slid his fingers past his balls and rubbed them around his hole. He smeared it wet, sucked in a breath because the lube was cold, before easing two fingers into his body. He’d fucked himself plenty of times, knew the pressure and speed his body could take to start.

 

He buried them to the knuckle, hooked them slowly. He couldn’t reach his prostate yet, but he still squirmed. His cock smeared precum on him, not hard yet but god, Jason knew he could be.

 

“Good boy,” Slade said, reaching out and getting one hand on Jason’s knee. He spread his legs wider, rubbed his thumb in little circles on Jason’s dark skin. Jason huffed a breath, began to thrust his fingers, the wet sound filling the cheap motel room.

 

Slade reached down, fisted a hand around his own cock, stroking himself slowly. Jason shuddered, scissored his fingers, trying to open himself as quickly as possible. “Can you even get hard again, old man?” he asked, offering up a sneer, faking all the confidence he didn’t feel in that moment.

 

Slade grunted, reached out and smacked Jason’s thigh. The sound of skin on skin reverberated, and Jason yelped, his dark thigh flushing from the single hit. Jason bit his lip, spread his thighs wider, his hips aching with it. “A-again,” he managed, and Slade smirked like the devil. He smacked his thigh again, before he grabbed the stinging flesh and muscle, squeezing. Jason gasped, shoved a third finger into his body as the pain ignited, his legs shaking. The hair leading down to his groin was sticky with his precum, his cock desperately wanting to react but still not able to.

 

Slade’s blunt nails dragged down his thigh, as he continued to stroke his own cock. Angry red lines puffed up along Jason’s skin, and Jason tipped his head back, gasping.

 

When Slade pulled his hand back, climbed off the bed, Jason turned his head to look. He watched him pull his tshirt off, the white of the hair on his chest, under his arms, just as light as that atop his head. Jason shivered, bucked his hips as he hooked his fingers, just missed his prostate. Slade was _everything_ he looked for in a damn dream lay.

 

His cock was hard again, and Jason whined over it, as Slade bent over, stripped of his boots, his jeans, his underwear. Jason wanted to suck him off again, wanted Slade to lean over the bed, grasp his head and fuck his mouth until Jason sobbed, couldn’t breathe. And when he came and Jason was rock hard, he wanted Slade’s fingers to replace his.

 

“On your hands and knees.” It was a stern command, and Jason pulled out of his body, flipping quickly. He scrambled onto his hands and knees, heard the cap on the bottle of lube as he shuffled back, towards the edge of the bed.

 

It was tossed next to him, and then Slade’s hands on his ass, parting his flesh and showing off his hole. Jason bowed his head, took in a single breath- didn’t even get to exhale before Slade was thrusting roughly into him. Jason gasped, choked on his breath- and Slade was pulling back, pushing into him again.

 

“Nnf, _fuck_ ,” Jason cursed, feeling tears welling in his eyes already. Slade’s cock was thick, and his fingers hadn’t done him complete justice- but god, the stretch, the minor discomfort, was worth it as Slade’s cock slid along his prostate. Jason groaned, fingers digging into the bed, as his cock dripped precum onto the old blanket.

 

Slade’s pelvis smacked his ass with each thrust. The sound was deafening, obscene, and Jason found he was shoving his ass back, trying to get Slade deeper. He shuddered, whining- when suddenly Slade was leaning over him. He pressed to Jason’s back, the feeling of his chest hair rubbing on Jason’s scars making him shiver, his thrusts becoming quick but shallow.

 

Slade reached for Jason, around him- hooked his hand around his throat and squeezed. Jason’s mouth fell open, Slade’s fingers digging into the sides of his neck, the perfect hold so he could still breathe, but got that dizzy rush to his brain.

 

“C’mon boy,” Slade grunted, his breath panting out now. “Whine like the whore you are.” He squeezed, and Jason choked, coughed out a broken sob. Slade’s hand released a little, let him inhale, before he squeezed again. “ _Louder_ boy.”

 

Jason shuddered, his cock smacking his belly, as he let out a hoarse cry. It was choked off by Slade’s hand, but the man hummed his approval, placed a kiss between Jason’s shoulder blades.

 

“Better. Now, little red- show me what you can take.” He pushed himself up, keeping his arm outstretched, his hand around Jason’s throat, and used the hold to jerk Jason back. Each breath hitched, and Jason shoved himself back as hard as he could, meeting each of Slade’s brutal thrusts.

 

“Fuckin’,” Jason rasped, “ _break me_.” He tipped his head back, pushed his throat against Slade’s hand. His cheeks were tear streaked, his eyes burning. He squeezed them shut, his cock bobbing with each thrust. Fully hard now, he was so damn close, Slade’s cock against his prostate with each thrust driving him utterly mad.

 

Slade growled out again, huffed a pant and squeezed so tight that, behind his eyelids, Jason saw starbursts. His mouth fell open and he tried to scream, the raspy sound falling from his lips as he clenched tight around Slade. He came, not in a rushing burst but in waves, pulses of cum dribbling down his cock and onto the bed as Slade milked it from him, continuing to press tight to his prostate.

 

Jason sobbed, his body on fire, nerve singed at the ends, as Slade continued to fuck him. Slade’s hand slid from his throat, and Jason pitched forward, folded his arms and buried his face in them as he sobbed. Slade’s hand dragged along his back, blunt nails scraping just as they did on his thigh- and when Jason shuddered, Slade finally came. He buried himself completely inside Jason, and he could feel it, each damn wave as it coated him inside. Jason felt wet, felt filthy, and he wriggled around, whining over it.

 

For a moment after, Slade didn’t pull out. He panted and let Jason’s hole clench around him, the younger’s body still reacting. When he did pull out, Jason gave a loud breath, a little cry. The air was stinging his one abused thigh, his back, and his ass hurt in ways he’d be feeling in the morning, he knew.

 

He was so damn _happy_ about it all.

 

Jason managed to push himself up, settling back into the pillows very carefully. He winced, knew Slade was watching him. “Jacket,” he mumbled, and Slade walked around the bed, grabbed it from where Jason had tossed it up on the dresser with the old TV. He brought it back, held it out, and Jason took it, fishing around in his pockets. His hands were shaking when he came back with his pack of cigarettes, his lighter. He settled one in his mouth, flicked the lighter to life- but he was shaking so badly he couldn’t get it to light. He cursed around the cigarette, before Slade was sitting down in front of him, leaning into his space.

 

“Let me.” He took the lighter, flicked it to life, held it under the end of the cigarette as Jason inhaled. Jason tipped his head back, blew smoke up into the air, sighing at the fix. He very carefully leveled his stare forward at Slade, taking in the slight disarray to his bangs, along his patch. For the most part, he otherwise still looked put together.

 

“You impressed me,” Jason said, taking another drag, before he reached towards the nightstand, tapped his cigarette over the ancient looking ashtray. “Best fuck I’ve had in a long time.”

 

Slade chuckled. He stood up, saying not a damn word, as he began to slowly dress. Jason settled on simply watching, taking in each flex of Slade’s thighs, as he pulled his boxer briefs back on, then his jeans. The shape of his ass before he crouched down to relace his boots.

 

And finally the bulk of his chest and shoulders. He still wanted to dig his nails into his biceps, to pull at his chest hair, get a good slap to his _face_ over it. Wanted to hear Slade snarl at him. When Slade pulled his tshirt on, Jason forced himself to look away, puffing out more smoke.

 

Slade leaned back over the bed, plucked the cigarette from Jason’s fingers. His other hand buried in Jason’s hair, held him steady as he pressed his mouth to Jason’s, kissed the flavor of ash straight from his lips. Jason sighed, eyes half lidded as Slade pulled back. He watched him take a drag, exhale the smoke and seem like some goddamn immortal dragon.

 

“Not bad for an old man?” he asked, and Jason cracked a grin.

 

“Yeah. Tolerable for an insolent brat?”

 

A chuckle. “Yeah.” Another drag, and Slade leaned back in, settled the cigarette in Jason’s lips. “Maybe I’ll see you on the rooftops again, little red.”

 

Jason swallowed, took a drag- didn’t get an answer in as Slade turned, headed for his door. He unlocked it, let himself out- and Jason sagged back, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray to burn out.


End file.
